0927 hours – Been up over an hour, drinking coffee, trying to clear my head of the ragged dreams from the dark. Listening to my wife’s music selection, from Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together,” to “Ventura,” by America, and then something by Dave Gates and Bread, followed up with a show tune from ‘Jesus Christ Superstar,’ where the singer is defending Mary Mag’s virtue.
She’s busy painting the outside of the garage door leading from our front room and into the garage. Tried to help her, by removing the deadbolt from it. This thing is like no deadbolt I’ve ever seen before. Sucker is stuck in there, but good. She told me to forget it. She’ll paint around it.
Had to rework my haiku poem from last night: “In Kerouac’s Fire.” It was part of one of my many weird dreams that included attending a British War Memorial, bagpipes and all. Frightening faces of dead soldiers pulling up in coal train carriages for the services is a tad bit disconcerting.
Haven’t even taken a shower yet and probably won’t till much later. My hair stands at attention, saluting in all sorts of directions. Funny actually. And I gotta find my glasses again.
A motorized para-sail is buzzing above our neighborhood and there is the smell of wildfire in the morning air. I’m thinking it is to the west of us, beyond Hungry Valley.
Gonna have another cup of coffee and enjoy, Michael Martin Murphy’s ‘Wildfire,’ a song I used to close out my nighttime broadcasts with back before the corporations took over programming all the damned radio stations in the universe. People still debate the meaning behind the lyrics — I love that.
The Old Blog in the Desert 
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